Intro:
Boy, it's some shady times out there goin' on right now.
Man, shit be out there, you got them real niggas and them
fake niggas, then you got them coochie-ass niggas who say
they down when they ain't down. My nigga, you better get
yourself together, boy, 'cause this shit real!
Verse 1: JT Money
Where, I'm, from, the M-I-A-M-I
Young nigga got on, got strong, now he's too fly
'Cause of what he has in his possession
A few keys of coke and some pounds of that cest
And a flurry of hoes
Drop tops, flip-flops, ??????
Now he don't holler at the fellas
And the homies from 'round the way is gettin' jealous
So they sit back and scheme
Strapped with AK's, Mac10's and car beams
Now what you think they gon' do?
Sit in front of his crib, and wait for him to come through
So they can touch his ass
But if the nigga try to buck, they gon' bust his ass
gunshots And fill him up with holes
But that's just how shit goes, when you're ...
Chorus:
{Livin' in the ci-ty}
{Livin' in the ci-ty}
{Livin' in the ci-ty}
{Livin' in the ci-ty}
Verse 2: JT Money
Wake up to the sound of somebody screamin'
Look out my window, some niggas triple-teamin'
A nigga who ain't from 'round the way
And ass-whippin's the price you gotta pay
For tryin' to play bold
Walkin' through my neighborhood wearin' your gold
Talkin' 'bout goin' to a bitch' crib
Now you're fucked up and stuck with broken ribs
That's the way it's gotta be
If I was 'round y'all way, y'all gon' front on me!
